


Midnight Meetings

by Night_Hawk94



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017), bughead - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Love, Mutual Pining, Oneshot, Pining, Sharing a Bed, Southside Serpent Jughead Jones, Strangers to Lovers, Waitress Betty Cooper, bed sharing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-16
Updated: 2018-08-16
Packaged: 2019-06-28 10:17:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15705222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Night_Hawk94/pseuds/Night_Hawk94
Summary: Beaten, tired and freshly banished from the Southside Serpents, Jughead Jones stumbles into Pops late one evening, his spirit broken and at a total loss - finding some but little solace in a warm cup of black coffee and the quiet diner.But while mulling over his solemn thoughts he can’t help but notice one of the few occupants in the diner besides him; the beautiful, blonde haired waitress and his keen interest in her only increases when she boldly offers him a shoulder to lean on.





	Midnight Meetings

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little something I wrote - hope you enjoy!! Xx :)

It was the distinct sound of rain pounding down against the windows panes that eventually pulled Jughead Jones from his solemn and lonely thoughts. 

It was late. Past midnight to be more precise and he was alone, sitting in a booth at Pops - Riverdale’s one and only diner and personal safe haven. He couldn’t really remember how he got there or how he even managed to stand or make it two feet from the spot where he had been lying after everything that had happened tonight. He winced at the thought, feeling the fresh bruises and wounds that littered his body now sting and ache relentlessly. Every second of pain reminding him that he wasn’t who he had been just few hours ago. Not anymore. 

“Violence will always breed more violence” 

He’d heard the words so many times before in the past, but for whatever reason he chose to ignore them. To listen to the ignorant and arrogant sixteen year old version of himself over the cautious and experienced voices that belonged to those who had already seen with their own eyes what he would end up seeing everyday for the next five years. 

The violence of the Southside and the degradation of its morals. Watching it collapse around him without mercy until it was stripped bare. 

At the time he had no idea how a simple decision to put on a leather jacket would change everything he knew, but he quickly realised that nothing was safe. That nothing was sacred. Not from the Southside Serpents. He was just a kid at the time and it was obvious that he didn’t fully understand the weight of the commitment that actually came with the rough leather jacket that once hung off his shoulder and the tattoo that once adorned his skin. 

He would never blame anyone else though. Not even the ones who beat him to a pulp earlier that evening and left him near the train tracks in the rain - casting him out of the Southside forever. 

Jughead sighed heavily and shifted in his seat, gritting his teeth when he felt a noticeably sharp pain surge up the side of his body. His ribs were surely bruised. Maybe one or two were broken or even cracked. It was the worst injury he’d suffered all evening. His bruised eye, busted lip and bloody knuckles all paling in comparison. 

He glanced at his hands then and sighed bitterly at the state of them. His dad had called him a fighter once. Scrappy and a survivor. Words that were proven to be true tonight after he had fought back on instinct, clipping his punishers a few times before he went down. It was a grave mistake. One that only made the “ceremonial” removal of his tattoo all the more slow and painful. 

Prompted by the thought, he touched the spot on his shoulder and his body immediately tensed with pain. He guessed that the makeshift bandage that he’d made out of his flannel was probably soak through with blood by now which meant that he would probably have to looked at it again, much to his annoyance. 

“Another?” 

The sound of the soft voice startled him a little and he looked up, taking in his surroundings for the first time since he had walked through the door. 

The diner was mostly empty apart from a lone man sitting at the far end of the retro space. Soft background music filtered through the air, barely audible against the endless pattering of rain outside. The atmosphere was warm and comforting, the faint scent of freshly brewed coffee clinging to it with ease. Jughead shifted his eyes, searching for the source of the voice only to be left completely stunned seconds later when he found it. 

His first thought was that she was beautiful, staggering even. With her blonde hair tied back in to a neat ponytail and her stark green eyes, watching him closely, expectantly, the sight completely overloading his broken and dispirited senses within an instant. It took a few seconds before he finally noticed the coffee jug in her hand and remembered the question she had asked that was obviously directed at him. 

“Uh sure .... Thanks.” Jughead said, nudging the empty coffee cup on the table next to his discarded grey crown shaped beanie - a relict from his childhood that couldn’t protect him tonight no matter how much he wanted it too. 

“Are you sure you don’t want something eat?” the waitress asked while she poured the coffee, her eyes filling with mild concern as she looked him over. Jughead noticed and managed a crooked smile when the faintest of blushes stained her cheeks as a result. 

“I’m alright, but thanks again uh ...” 

“ - Betty” she said with a smile of her own, pointing to the name tag on her uniform. 

“Betty.” Jughead repeated softly, his smile still firmly in place as he watched her turn and walk away. 

It wasn’t the first time that he had seen her.

They had gone to school together before his transfer to Southside High during his Sophomore year and he had been to Pops countless times before, almost always in the company of other Serpents and, if he was extremely lucky, she would be on her shift, gifting him the chance to spend a few minutes or sometimes even seconds distracting himself from the harsh reality he found himself in by simply focusing on her. 

Before tonight he had hardly uttered more than a polite “Hey”, “Thank you” or “Goodbye” to her and he wondered now if that could or would ever change between them at some point. Technically, he had nothing stopping him from finding out. Not anymore. 

“You know,” she said, turning around to face him again, “I know this is technically none of my business, but there is a first aid kit in the back if you -“, she paused and swallowed a little, “- if you want to, you know ... use it.” 

“That bad huh?” Jughead murmured, his lips pulling into a defeated, lopsided smile. 

“It just looks like your in a lot of pain to be honest,” Betty said softly, “So I figured you could maybe use some help, that’s if you want it of course.” 

Jughead paused then, tongue tied as he quickly weighed out his options. He had two. He could live up to his “loner weirdo” label by simply telling her that he would be okay without the help. Gently reassuring her if she persisted, that it didn’t look nearly as bad as she thought it did. Or he could try something new and ignore the tendency he always had to push people away when they tried to help him. To let his guard down for once and let someone else take care of him for a change.

Naturally he found himself choosing the latter. 

When Betty came back a short while later with the first aid kit in hand, he was a little surprised, but didn’t exactly protest when she slipped into the booth and sat down beside him. He couldn’t argue even if he wanted to - too enamored by how close she was to him now and by the faint vanilla smell that suddenly invaded his senses. She was pretty damn brave. Enough to sit with a total stranger who simply oozed danger and trouble without even batting an eyelid. It was more than he gave her credit for. That being said, she seemed to realize how daring her actions were as well a few seconds later and he had to swallow back his laughter when she panicked slightly. 

“Would you - I mean, do you want me to help you or should I -“ 

“- It’s okay Betty,” he said, gently interrupting her, “I’m not in the best shape at the moment so I’d really appreciate the help actually.” 

“Okay.” Betty said with small smile, clearly relieved. 

She focused her attention on taking care of his marred hands after that and with every second that passed Jughead found himself fixated on her, completely captivated while he watched her work. 

He was convinced, right then and there, that he was dreaming. That the past few hours had been nothing more than a figment of his own his imagination. That if he reached out and touched her right now, like he was desperately itching to do, that she would just disappear and he would gasp awake, drenched to the bone and lying beaten near the South side train tracks. He was certain, until she pressed the disinfectant soaked cotton wool against a particularly sore knuckle, causing him to jolt and hiss with sudden and immense pain. 

“Sorry,” Betty mumbled softly. She stopped cleaning immediately and held onto his hand a little more firmly, gently stroking her thumb over his skin, “I think you might need to get that looked at.” 

Jughead simply nodded, allowing her remarkably soothing touch to help alleviate the pain until it was replaced with something else entirely. A feeling that was not unknown, but very unfamiliar to him. He looked at her then, watching her closely while she examined the knuckle a little more. 

“Why are you helping me?” he asked, speaking so softly that he wasn’t sure Betty had even heard him until she frowned slightly and turned to look at him. He backtracked quickly. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate it Betty, it’s just ... well you don’t know anything about me. I could be a some deranged lunatic for all you know.” 

“Are you?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at him in question. 

“Well no, but -“ 

“ - Then I’m sure I’ll manage,” she said, cutting Jughead off with a playful smile that surprised him more than anything else, “And for the record I know more about you then you think, Jughead Jones - illustrious Prince of the Southside Serpents.” he gave her an amused look and Betty giggled, “I saw you come in here with them a few times.” she explained. 

Jughead smirked and chuckled lightly at that, stunned by her all over again. Truthfully, her knowing who he is (or was at least) shouldn’t surprise him that much anyway. 

He knew that a lot of people on the Northside of Riverdale knew about The Serpents. That very little could happen in this god forsaken little town without everyone finding out about it at some point and, naturally, the notorious gang from the Southside often made headlines in the local newspaper and its members were easy enough to distinguish in any crowd thanks to the dark, snake etched leather jackets they always wore. 

“What I don’t know,” Betty continued, speaking when he didn’t say anything after a while, “Is what happened to you tonight and why it did.” 

It was an invitation. Not a demand or request or even a question. It was just her way of saying that if he wanted to talk about whatever he had been through recently, she would listen without prejudice (or presumably she would anyway). He was silent for moment, considering the proposal while she started to clean his hands again and hinted that drinking some more coffee would probably help. She wasn’t pressuring him in anyway and he was immensely grateful for it. Still, he couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to confide in someone. Even someone who was basically a stranger to him. 

“Are you sure you want to know?” Jughead asked her quietly, swallowing noticeably a few seconds later when she scooted even closer to him and started tending to a gash on his forearm. Betty looked at him gently, her smile soft and understanding. Another way of saying that he didn’t have to tell her anything if he didn’t want to. That it was just a invitation for her to be his shoulder to cry on ... so to speak. 

Jughead sighed. He knew that it was risky to say anything. That this could backfire on him badly, but he wasn’t a stranger to hazardous situations either, having experienced his fair share over the course of his life. Besides she didn’t look like the type to judge when it wasn’t her place too. 

“You should probably take a look at my shoulder next.” he said quietly then, averting his eyes to focus on the table and his trusty beanie instead. He briefly considered reaching for it, but strangely enough he didn’t really feel the need for its protection right now - experiencing a ridiculous amount of unspoken trust and safety with her right now. 

He held his breath when he felt her roll up the sleeve of his t-shirt and undo the makeshift bandage he’d created, only releasing it again when he heard a soft, but horrified gasp fall from her lips. He chanced a glance at her and his heart twisted a little when he saw the fear and confusion in her now tear stained eyes, unable to speak or even comprehend what this meant. 

“My Serpent tattoo used to be there.” he explained, flinching slightly when he the sharp and painful memory of being held down while a knife was sliced right through his skin and his agonizing screams filled silence, trickled into his mind again. 

“Used to be?” Betty repeated softly. She touched the skin around the wound attentively and winced when he did. She looked at him and he could tell that he didn’t need him to explain anything. That he had been cast out of the Southside tonight, forbidden to return. Somehow she understood already. 

“I just - I don’t understand,” she whispered brokenly, “I saw you in here with some of them a few days ago and everything seemed fine.” She reached for the disinfectant again, but Jughead gently stopped her, trying to ignore the fact that she had been watching him as well. 

“Thanks, but I think I’ll need to see a doctor for that Betty.” she nodded rather reluctantly and settled back down next to him, casually placing her one hand on top of his. A simple action that made his heart race a mile a minute. 

“Can I ask why did they do this to you?” 

Despite the mild pain it caused, Jughead shrugged. 

“It’s not a secret or anything I was just sick and tired of being forced to do things I didn’t want to do and all the ... the violence that came with it,” he paused and sighed heavily, a lopsided smile forming on his lips when he glanced at her, “Obviously they didn’t take it well.” 

“This isn’t funny Jug.” Betty said somberly, reaching up to brush a stray strand of hair off his forehead without thinking. They froze, both of them clearly stunned, but Betty didn’t move her hand immediately, instead she kept it there longer than he expected her to. Her touch sending him into a state of unexpected solace. One he never wanted to leave. She glanced at his lips then and he swallowed back bold urge he suddenly had to lean in and kiss her. 

“I know,” he said quietly instead, his eyes fixed entirely on her, “I know.” 

 

~•~•~

 

“Do you have somewhere to stay tonight?” Betty asked Jughead an hour later when her shift came to an end and he finally got up to leave. They left the diner together, stepping out into the cold evening air. 

“No,” he said honestly, “But I’ll manage though.” 

It wouldn’t be the first time he would have to find a place to sleep that wasn’t his families trailer and while it would be pretty difficult given that he couldn’t go back to the Southside, he would find something eventually. Maybe he would wait for her to leave before heading back into the diner and asking Pop Tate if he could just sleep in one of the booths. 

“Are you sure?” she pressed, clearly unconvinced. 

“I’m sure,” Jughead said with a reassuring smile, “Thanks again for everything you did for me tonight Betty. I really appreciate it.” 

“You’re welcome, but you don’t need to thank me.” 

“Yeah I do,” he said softly, “I’ll see you around.” 

He turned to walk away then, thinking about how he would definitely be spending a lot of time at Pops from now on, but he barely reached the edge of the parking lot before he heard the sound of someone running to catch up with him. 

“Jug!” Betty said, coming to a stop when he turned around, “I have a couch.” she added breathlessly. 

“I’m sorry?” he asked, a little confused. 

“I have a couch if you ... you know, need somewhere to sleep tonight.” 

If he hadn’t already established hours ago that tonight wasn’t a dream, he probably would’ve thought so now. Back in high school and for every day since then they had barely spoken to each other, but now, after one night together, he found himself agreeing to sleep on her couch for the evening. Powerless, in the moment, to refuse her offer. 

Things had definitely changed and he wasn’t about to question it. 

Betty Cooper lived in a small, one bedroomed apartment that only a person like her could make into something so warm and welcoming. She let him shower and insisted on cleaning and bandaging up his shoulder until he could see a doctor tomorrow. What she apparently didn’t foresee was him coming out of the bathroom shirtless and freshly showered. Needless to say he found it pretty amusing watching her trying not to stare at him. Then again, it was just as hard for him to keep his eyes off her. Even in her pajamas with her hair tied up in a messy bun she still looked more beautiful than any other woman he had ever seen. 

By the time they went to sleep, Jughead found that he couldn’t. Not because he was tormented by painful memories of his recent departure from The Southside and the Serpents, but simply because he couldn’t stop himself from thinking about her or about what had just happened between them, the memory still fresh in his mind. 

Betty had just finished tending to his shoulder when she noticed the bruising on his ribs and, in a moment of pure bravery on her part, reached out and traced her fingers lightly over the damaged skin, fresh tears pricking her eyes once again. He was about to tell her not to cry, to reassure that he was okay when she suddenly leaned in and pressed her incredibly soft and supple lips to his, turning his mind to mush in an instant. The kiss itself only lasted for a few seconds before it broke and Betty, now blushing as red as a tomato, said a quick good night and disappeared into her bedroom, leaving him alone and completely consumed with an sudden and unbridled desire to go after her and do it again. 

He didn’t of course, having never been the type of person to take advantage of anyone, but with every second that he spent staring at her open bedroom door from his place on the couch, he started to question that chivalrous side of himself. He’s not sure what it was that finally made him stand up and go to her room, but he felt like it was the right choice when he slowly approached her bed and she pulled back the covers, silently asking him to join her. Admittedly her bed was a lot more comfortable than the couch and things only improved when she shifted closer and snuggled into his chest. 

“Is this okay?” he whispered, tentatively wrapping his arms around her. She nodded and even in the distinct darkness that surrounded them he could see the way she was looking at him. It was enough for him to confirm what he had been feeling all evening. Enough for him to lean down and kiss her softly, the action budding and filled with promise. He kissed her deeply, thoroughly again and then again, each time relishing her sweet and addictive taste and the way she eagerly returned the fervor of his kiss. It was undeniably the best feeling in the world. 

When he woke up next to the train tracks earlier that evening - beaten and tired and all alone he had no idea how or if things would ever improve for him. He had just lost the only home he had ever known and while he was glad to be free of it he also had know idea what he was going to do next. For the first time in a very long time he was lost. 

He didn’t predict Betty and their unexpected meeting though. How could he when encounters like this rarely happen through something other than fate. And he did feel like this was fated. That being here with her right now was exactly where he was meant to be. That his decision to go to Pops, conscious or not, was the best one he had ever made. 

He snuggled in and fell asleep slowly then, letting himself get lost in absolutely everything that was purely her. Completely unaware that on this very night he found his real home. 

Right here with her.

**Author's Note:**

> Thoughts and comments are always appreciated!! Xx


End file.
